A Small Obsession
by InvisibleSpork
Summary: A sort of "what if" response to a prompt about how hyper-intelligent people sometimes have mental or emotional troubles.  And Neal is most certainly hyper-intelligent.


I hadn't intended to publish it except as a response to a prompt, but consider this as kind of apology for being away so long. Keep in mind that I don't see this at all as part of Neal's character, just as a "what if."

PROMPT: So I was thinking about how hyper-intelligent people tend to also be people who have some kind of emotional or mental disorder normally to one degree or another. And Neal is certainly hyper-intelligent...

Neal had a lot of quirks. Peter had known that. He had made it his job for three years to know his every preference and odd habit. He had thought he knew everything about the man. Obviously he was wrong, because now Neal was sitting at the table looking mildly pissed. All he had asked was why Neal never put any sugar in his coffee at June's. After all, Peter knew that at the office Neal took his coffee with two sugars and two creams. He had no idea what could have triggered Neal's sudden defensiveness.

"Maybe I just wanted my coffee black this morning. I don't see why it's of any of your business."

"Whoa, I come in peace," Peter said, holding his hands. "I didn't mean to strike a nerve." Neal shot him a dirty look. "Okay, let's just forget I asked."

They finished their coffee and drove to work in silence. Peter spent the drive trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. He couldn't have hurt Neal's feelings. That would necessitate a day-long pout. And he hadn't made him angry since Neal wasn't glaring at him or staring pointedly out the window ignoring him. And he wasn't sulking since that was usually accompanied by slouches and sighs. Peter had no idea what had happened. Today was promising to be very uncomfortable.

He knew there would be no talking to Neal today. Unobtrusive observation would probably be his best bet to figure out what the hell was bugging him. _The elusive Caffrey takes a moment to observe his enclosure before heading to the watering hole_. He really had to stop watching Discovery Channel with El. 

Peter watched him out of the corner of his eye as Neal walked over to pour some coffee before sitting down to work. He placed only one sugar and one cream in his coffee and turned to walk away. He paused closing his eyes for a moment and taking a short breath. Shooting a glance in Peter's direction to make sure he wasn't looking, he turned back to add the second cream and sugar to his.

Neal sat down to his desk, opening an old case file and uncapped one of his four pens – two black and two blue. He shot a slightly sour look toward Peter's office as he had every day since Peter had banned click pens. Neal seemed incapable of stopping himself from tapping out an incessant rapid series of _click-click click-click_, and Peter couldn't take it.

At lunch Peter watched as Neal at his sandwich – cut into two even pieces. He watched as Neal finished off his packet of M&M's, popping them into his mouth two at a time until there was only one left, which he offered to Peter.

He watched Neal as he walked up the stairs to June's door that evening. Peter saw him pause long enough to tap his right foot a second time on the second to last stair before going inside. He had known for a long time that Neal had a lot of quirks. But now he thought he was finally understanding why.

Peter waited until they were both seated on Neal's balcony the next morning to test his hypothesis.

"So," he drew out the word, watching Neal closely for any reaction. "Obsessive compulsive?"

Neal tensed and looked at him, expression shifting between angry and incredulous before settling on rueful. "I don't even know why I'm surprised you figured it out."

"Actually, now that I see it I'm surprised it took me so long." He was honestly more surprised that Neal had admitted it, especially given his reaction yesterday. Then again, he probably shouldn't be. Try as he might, Neal knew when to drop the act. Plus, he sucked at lying to Peter.

"Yeah, well," Neal shrugged. "Usually I'm able to play it off as a moment of whimsy. People don't really notice." He gave Peter a steady look. "Just so we're clear, I'm not crazy."

"Never said you were." Peter paused to take a calculatedly nonchalant sip of his coffee. "How long?"

"Since I was a kid. I was a very…active child –"

Peter snorted. "Was?"

Neal acknowledged that with a slight smile. "I was always bored in school. The teachers didn't really know what to do with me. So in fourth grade it was either find some way to entertain myself or go to the front of the class and learn how to knit with Mrs. Wyndall. So I started creating patterns to pass the time. Pretty soon it just became habit, and then I couldn't stop. I mean, I could try, but it was really uncomfortable. So I figured it wasn't worth it."

"All in sets of two?"

"Yeah. Let me guess. You were playing creepy stalker yesterday, weren't you?"

Peter gave an unrepentant shrug. "Guilty as charged. There were just two things I didn't understand. Do you mind?" he asked. Neal had been surprisingly open with him, but he didn't want Neal to feel like the subject in some sort of study.

"Okay, shoot."

"First, what was with the stairs last night?"

"I didn't want to end the day on an odd number of stairs. I would've been uneven all night." Peter knew he was giving him a very confused look, but he couldn't help himself. He saw Neal draw in on himself a little bit at that look. "Look, I can't explain it any better. Compulsions don't make sense." Peter opened his mouth to say something, maybe apologize, but Neal waved him off. "What was your second question?"

"The coffee?"

"Can't fit two creams and sugars in the cup. I mean, just look at it." Neal held it out, pinky daintily raised. "It's _tiny_."

Peter smiled and shook his head. They finished out the rest of their breakfast in a much more comfortable silence than the previous day. "Come on, let's get going."

Neal looked up from where he had set the two coffee cups down in a neat row. "Peter?" he asked, a little uncertain. "Could you do me a favor?" Peter nodded from his position halfway through the door.

"Could you not mention this to anyone? I just don't want – I mean – It's just not something I really want to share with people."

"Sure."

Neal gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it, partner."


End file.
